


Widow Maker

by Singofsolace



Series: agony and ecstasy in motion [2]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, but really no one should be upset by this death, straight up murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 11:27:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19333615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singofsolace/pseuds/Singofsolace
Summary: Hilda Spellman puts on "the glamour of the century" and sets out to murder Faustus.(that's it. that's the story. you're welcome.)





	Widow Maker

In the end, killing Faustus Blackwood was almost too easy.

It wasn’t that Hilda wanted a challenge, exactly. After all, she wanted Faustus dead long before her sister woke up, so that Zelda would never again have to breathe the same air as him. But the least he could’ve done was _try_ to make it entertaining.

Hilda had come up with the plan almost immediately after she had finished tucking Zelda in. If Faustus was expecting Zelda back with the murdered familiar, why not give him what he wanted?

She constructed the glamour meticulously, leaving no detail to chance. She even put on the floral dress Zelda so hated, for authenticity. This wasn’t the first time she would be posing as Zelda, but it was still strange to look down and see her sister’s body where her own should be. Checking her appearance in the mirror one last time, Hilda picked up the bag holding Leviathan’s body, and made to open the bedroom door. She was not at all surprised to hear the sudden gasp of Sabrina as the girl fell forward, into the room.

“Were you eavesdropping, young lady?” Hilda said, forgetting, for a moment, that she ought to imitate Zelda’s voice. Her British accent was a dead giveaway, if Sabrina’s widened eyes were any indication.

“Aunties…?” Sabrina straightened up, her eyes darting back and forth between Zelda’s bed and the woman standing in front of her.

“You’re putting your nose where it doesn’t belong, Sabrina,” said Hilda, mimicking Zelda’s haughty Transatlantic accent with great success. She almost fooled herself.

Sabrina took one last look at the woman lying in the bed before putting the pieces together. “Aunt Hilda? Why do you look like…?”

“His Unholy Eminence is expecting me,” said Hilda, focusing intently on recreating the breathy voice her sister had used while under the Caligari spell.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea…?”

Since when did her niece ever think caution was necessary? Hilda’s plan was no more reckless than any Sabrina had attempted before.

“Will you watch over your aunt while she sleeps, Sabrina? I gave her a strong enough sleeping draft to keep her resting for at least twelve hours, but just in case it fails, I don’t want her to wake up alone.”

A solemn expression spread across Sabrina’s face. “Of course, Aunt Hilda. I’ll be there for her. I promise.”

Hilda was touched by how earnest her niece’s words were. Sabrina became more and more like Zelda with each passing day, and yet, Hilda knew her niece would insist otherwise. As she watched Sabrina draw a chair up to Zelda’s bed and take her hand, she was reminded of how _young_ her niece was, despite all of her posturing and claims of maturity. Right then, she just looked like a scared child holding her mother’s hand, trying to appear brave.

“I shouldn’t be long. As much as I would like to draw it out, I think it would be better for everyone if His Unholy Eminence is taken care of sooner rather than later.”

Sabrina nodded, but never took her eyes off of Zelda’s sleeping form.

“If I’m not back by morning, I’ve probably wound up in the Witch’s Cell.” _Or worse_ , Hilda thought. She’d seen Faustus viciously murder two of his Judas boys without blinking an eye.

“You’ll be back,” said Sabrina, firmly, before adding in a whisper, “you have to be.”

Hilda walked over to Sabrina to give her one last hug, in case it really was the last. It was awkward, because Sabrina was sitting down, and Hilda wasn’t used to moving with Zelda’s body yet. “You be strong, and stay safe. Don’t do anything rash while I’m gone, hmm?”

“Yes, Auntie,” said Sabrina, squeezing Hilda tighter.

“I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” she said, letting her niece go and readying herself to transfer to the Academy. She took one last look at her sister, lying safe and peaceful in her bed, before winking out of sight.  

* * *

Arsenic had always been an old favorite of Hilda’s. Mortal means of killing were so efficient. Murdering Sister Jackson with cyanide had been so much more satisfying than watching her spiders weave Methuselah into a deadly cocoon of webbing, and required far less effort to dispose of the evidence.

Faustus was pleased when Hilda-as-Zelda presented him with the dead familiar. As Zelda had suspected, he wanted to “celebrate,” but Hilda insisted they have a spot of tea first. Faustus seemed irritated by the delay, but she supposed that he assumed it was the Caligari spell working a bit too well when it came to his orders of domesticity.

“Now remind me, how do you take your tea? Oh, wait! Don’t tell me. _Sugar_.” Hilda dropped three lumps of arsenic-laced sugar cubes into his drink. She hadn’t noticed before the Caligari spell how tooth-rottingly sweet Faustus took his tea.

It took hardly five minutes for the poison to do its work. Faustus went into cardiac arrest at precisely 23:13 pm. Hilda enjoyed watching him slip out of his chair and onto the floor, clutching his chest, ordering his wife to transfer him to the infirmary. Hilda got no small amount of pleasure from seeing the understanding come over his face when “Zelda” didn’t comply with his request, and instead sat there, sipping her unsweetened black tea in amusement.

Faustus died on the floor, in an undignified heap, with tea staining his shirt and pants. Hilda stayed in her seat, drinking her tea leisurely until she was down to the dregs.

It was the best cup of tea she had had in her life.

When she was finished, she set the cup down, and vanished the tea set entirely so as to get rid of the evidence. Unless the Judas boys had specialized knowledge of toxicology, she doubted they would discover just what had killed Faustus for a long while yet. With a few flicks of her fingers, Hilda ensured that a diagnostic spell would tell them that he died of a heart attack, pure and simple.

How fitting that mortals called it a “widow maker.”

With a final flick of her wrists to ensure the Judas Boys would get a cheeky message not to disturb the Blackwood chambers until the morning, she took one last look at the pitiful excuse of a man at her feet, and transferred back to the mortuary.

**Author's Note:**

> please drop a line to let me know what you think! even if it's just: "Hilda's the best!"


End file.
